My morning, pre-game weigh-in: 251.4.
Last night, I'd made three chicken salad sandwiches by chopping very finely the BBQ left from the previous Sunday, and mixing it with a little mayo and a little blue cheese dressing. I sliced some tomato from the garden and put this and the chicken onto whole wheat bread. I made three sandwiches.
Jenna saw these sitting on the counter in their little plastic jackets, and decided they needed a little something extra. So she found a marker and wrote on them:
"LOL I AM ZAK'S SANDWICH WTF OMG"
"I AM A ZOMBIE SANDWICH FILLED WITH BRAINZ"
"NOM NOM NOM I AM A SAMMY NOM"
She is a hoot. I ate one of these on the train, with a can of diet soda.
I ate the other two not long after I arrived at the office. This is an unreasonable rate of consumption, I know. Why the backslide? I think it is because I knew I wasn't going to the gym that evening (was going to Finnegans instead), so I didn't have to avoid having a heavy stomach. I remembered that there'd been a book club meeting in the office the night before, and as I walked into the office from the train I dreaded the chance that there'd be pizza leftover in the fridge. Because I didn't know how I'd avoid eating it.
I felt gross as it was happening, as I put away one after the other of these minced meat sandwiches. I also had a few peanut-butter-filled pretzel bites, and a miniature Mr. Goodbar during the work day; and, of course, two iced coffees.
At Finnegans, I demolished a "Canadian" cheeseburger (so-called because of the slice of Canadian bacon atop the patty-cooked-rare) with a side of sweet potato fries. I drank three diet Cokes.
At home, I made Jenna a dinner of frozen entree tikki masala, and ate (!) the frozen broccoli-stuffed chicken breast she'd already baked. She wanted the Indian, and I was going to put away the chicken, and instead I ate it. One two three, gone. I also finished the sriracha chips from Thursday night. I had a lot of water.
Last night, I'd made three chicken salad sandwiches by chopping very finely the BBQ left from the previous Sunday, and mixing it with a little mayo and a little blue cheese dressing. I sliced some tomato from the garden and put this and the chicken onto whole wheat bread. I made three sandwiches.
Jenna saw these sitting on the counter in their little plastic jackets, and decided they needed a little something extra. So she found a marker and wrote on them:
"LOL I AM ZAK'S SANDWICH WTF OMG"
"I AM A ZOMBIE SANDWICH FILLED WITH BRAINZ"
"NOM NOM NOM I AM A SAMMY NOM"
She is a hoot. I ate one of these on the train, with a can of diet soda.
I ate the other two not long after I arrived at the office. This is an unreasonable rate of consumption, I know. Why the backslide? I think it is because I knew I wasn't going to the gym that evening (was going to Finnegans instead), so I didn't have to avoid having a heavy stomach. I remembered that there'd been a book club meeting in the office the night before, and as I walked into the office from the train I dreaded the chance that there'd be pizza leftover in the fridge. Because I didn't know how I'd avoid eating it.
I felt gross as it was happening, as I put away one after the other of these minced meat sandwiches. I also had a few peanut-butter-filled pretzel bites, and a miniature Mr. Goodbar during the work day; and, of course, two iced coffees.
At Finnegans, I demolished a "Canadian" cheeseburger (so-called because of the slice of Canadian bacon atop the patty-cooked-rare) with a side of sweet potato fries. I drank three diet Cokes.
At home, I made Jenna a dinner of frozen entree tikki masala, and ate (!) the frozen broccoli-stuffed chicken breast she'd already baked. She wanted the Indian, and I was going to put away the chicken, and instead I ate it. One two three, gone. I also finished the sriracha chips from Thursday night. I had a lot of water.
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